ab imo pectore


Rafaella, 16.
Her body was filled with wordless emotions that bled into each other, like a not-quite-dry oil painting left in the rain. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't separate the red from the blue, nor the blue from the yellow, so she was left with a muddled mess of shades and hues. So she waited and allowed her emotions to mix until the colors mixed and became uniform, but she realized that this was no way to live, that life was never a single shade. Today, the colors run, with new shades and hues discovered each day; she embraces them as a part of being human, as undesirable as the resulting palate may be.